Kourt Crowe, soaking, reflected that Bail Blaine Garu had, without a doubt, the best bathtub in the known Universe. Carved out of a single block of highly polished, variegated blue slipstone, it was a perfect oval big enough for two to recline in (or, he'd been informed by the Bail, four to have a small-scale orgy in). The tub's supply of hot water was (as far as he had been able to ascertain) unlimited; its fixtures were sensibly located so that no one was gouged in the back by a faucet; and its drain did not make rude noises when it emptied. It was the kind of bathtub that made the Jedi think seriously about becoming aquatic.
The bathtub was nicely situated, too, Kourt thought. While the inner sanctum of the Bail's bathroom, with its shower and necessary facilities (as well as several fixtures the Jedi neither knew nor wished to know the use of), was more private, behind a solid door, the tub was separated from the bedroom by only a set of folding doors, most often left open. A large window with a sheer curtain let in light by day; a row of candle-niches in the wall above the tub provided pleasant illumination at night.
Kourt's rooms had an excellent bath too, but Blaine's was superior, if only for the fact that it afforded a fine view of the Bail, relaxing nearby.
Blaine lay on his side on the bed, fooling around with an old stringed instrument he'd found in one of the palace basements the day before, making vague pretty jangling sounds to accompany the sound of the rain pattering against the windows. The Bail wore a pale green silk chemise that came to just above his knees; one strap slipped down over one slender shoulder. Kourt could not but smile at the sight. His previous lovers had been other Jedi, warriors with whom sex was sometimes not unlike hand-to-hand combat. Blaine was a sensualist, and Kourt marveled at the differences: a body tuned by play rather than discipline, soft curves in place of hard angles, limbs more slender than muscular.
A lovely sight, the Jedi mused, and so he sat back and enjoyed that sight, as he soaked, and played idly in the bath, using the Force to form little spheres of water and rolling them along the edge of the tub.
After a while, Kourt noticed Blaine watching curiously; he picked up one of the slightly resilient balls and tossed it across the room. "Catch!"
Blaine set down his instrument and dove across the bed to intercept the little globe, then walked over to sit by the tub, gazing curiously at what was in his hand.
"Now, what's this?" Cool blue eyes glanced up, amazed, and met the Jedi's green ones, as the Bail rolled the ball back and forth in his palm.
Kourt shrugged one shoulder. "Just a little water."
"But it's -- it holds together!"
"Surface tension. And a little bit of the Force. It's like a bubble, but solid." The Jedi smiled; one of the things he enjoyed about Blaine was the fact that he was completely amazed by things everyone Kourt had ever known took for granted. "It's something they teach initiates at the Temple, sort of a simple Force manipulation exercise. A little concentration holds it together. And then I can let it go --" and Blaine gasped as the globe in his palm suddenly collapsed into a little pool, which he spilled back into the tub.
"What do you use it for?"
"A kind of exercise. Just keeping my fine motor skills sharp. Some of the initiates shoot marbles with them. No practical application at all."
"Really." Kourt detected skepticism.
"I suppose you could use them to, I don't know, carry drinking water in your pocket, but you do have to keep focused to keep them formed, so a canteen's much more practical. Or... here." Kourt dipped up a little bathwater in his hand, nudged at it with the Force so that it formed a glistening sphere the size of a small grape, picked it up on the end of one finger, and deposited it on Blaine's clavicle, where it hung like a chainless pendant. "Don't say I never gave you anything."
The Bail looked down to admire the shining drop, smiled, and touched it with a long, tapered finger; then he leaned over and kissed the Jedi soundly, got up and went back to the bed and his music. Kourt heard tunes forming in the air while he got out of the tub and dried himself with a large, thick white towel from the armoire by the bathroom. He knotted the towel around his waist, and settled in on the bed beside Blaine, picking up a book he'd been reading earlier -- something of Blaine's, by a poet of the last century, Cali F'Ia. A bit of absent thought kept the bead of water in place on Blaine's chest while he read.
A little while later, Kourt felt the bed shift as Blaine got up, and in a moment the Jedi heard a bit of clatter from the kitchen. Dangerous, that: the Bail, raised with servants, was not competent in the kitchen, and his rare efforts usually resulted in cut fingers, boiled tea, and calls for delivery. Kourt's concern shifted to curiosity as Blaine emerged with a large deep-blue mixing bowl, which he set carefully on the lushly carpeted floor; then curiosity turned to complete puzzlement as the Jedi watched Blaine gather up an armful of thick towels from the armoire, and spread a couple on the floor.
"Kourt?" The Jedi laid his book down, sat up, and looked over; the Bail lay back on the towels, resting on his elbows, feet planted, knees parted, a towel folded under his ass, an expectant look in his blue eyes. Pale green silk puddled over Blaine's hips as it slid down his thighs, revealing his rose-colored, slightly curved erection.
"Anything I can do for you there?"
Blaine smiled serenely, eyelids half-closed. "Show me again how you make those little balls?"
Kourt knelt on the floor beside Blaine, looked at the Bail, looked at the blue mixing bowl. It was full of water; Kourt dipped a finger, and found it to be warm; he licked the finger: slightly salty. He looked at Blaine again, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Blaine rocked his pelvis back the merest fraction of an inch.
Kourt smiled, and dipped up a little warm water in his hand.
"Like this?" Just the size of a grape, a large grape, warm.
"Mmm-hmm." Blaine lay all the way back now, head resting on the floor, eyes closed.
The Jedi shifted to kneel between Blaine's legs; he stroked the smooth skin inside one lightly muscled thigh, and was rewarded with a sigh, as the Bail's legs opened a little wider.
"And what would you like me to do with this?" Kourt continued stroking, a little higher up. Blaine's skin warmed under his hand as the Bail blushed. The Jedi reflected that Blaine looked well in pink.
"Here." Blaine reached down, spread the cheeks of his ass apart, revealing the sweet, deep rose opening. Kourt ran a finger lightly up the crack and touched Blaine's anus.
The Jedi leaned forward, intent, one tendril of black hair falling across his face. He pressed the warm ball of water against the center of the orifice with his thumb.
"Mmmmmmmm." Blaine squirmed slightly, suddenly opened, and Kourt pressed a little more firmly; the sphere popped inside as the Bail gasped in pleasure.
"You like that." Blaine nodded, turned a slightly darker shade of pink. "More?"
"Oh, yes. Please." Blaine's voice was breathy.
Kourt smiled, knowing that Blaine had never said no to more of anything in his life. He dipped into the bowl again, made another small, warm sphere of water, then rolled it slowly up the inside of the Bail's thigh. Blaine groaned as Kourt pressed the warm glove up into his interior warmth. The Jedi noticed that Blaine's erection strained upwards against his smooth, flat belly, and the sight awakened an answering heat inside Kourt.
Another small sphere, and another, and another; Kourt smiled, watching Blaine rock his hips slowly up and down, knowing the Bail felt the balls of warm water rolling inside him, no doubt bumping against his prostate. A few more balls, pressed slowly inside. Kourt laid a hand low on Blaine's belly, felt for the balls with the Force, and made them move, two globes slowly orbiting a third. The Bail gasped and groaned at the stirring inside him.
"You like that."
"I -- oohhh --- yes..."
A nod, and Kourt made a few more of the little spheres, these slightly larger, small plums that the Jedi pushed up inside Blaine's ass one at a time, as the Bail writhed and moaned. A few more. The resistance Kourt was beginning to encounter told him that Blaine was very nearly full. Blaine's increasingly urgent moans, and the light sweat forming on the Bail's face and limbs, told the Jedi that Blaine was very close to coming. A little water was left in the bowl, and Kourt formed it into one last ball, warm, resilient, the size of a tangerine.
"Ohhh... I, I can't --"
Kourt stroked Blaine's side with one hand. "You can. Relax. Deep breaths." The Bail complied, deep ragged breaths, Kourt pressed a little bit harder, and the last of the spheres disappeared up inside Blaine, who groaned deeply.
"Oh gods, so much, so heavy..." As Blaine writhed, Kourt wrapped one arm around his thighs, pulling them tightly together, closed; with the other, he very lightly stroked the Bail's cock from base to tip, feeling the heat inside. Blaine thrust against his hand, and Kourt stroked just a little harder, and suddenly Blaine cried out and sobbed as he came, white splashing against green silk.
Kourt held the Bail, kissed the back of his neck and stroked his arms and face as he slowly came back to himself, breathing settling back nearly to normal, heart pounding more slowly. After a few moments, he helped Blaine struggle to his feet and pushed him gently in the direction of the bathroom. The drop that had clung to the Bail's clavicle tricked down his chest as Kourt released his Force hold on the water.
A few moments later, Blaine, radiant, towel-wrapped, and clean, snuggled up against Kourt in bed.
"I can't believe you said there was no practical use for that."